


Fate goes ever as fate must.

by werepope (quiteparadise)



Series: 2014 Advent Calendar for a Filthy-Minded Athiest [7]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Industry bullshit, M/M, celebrity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiteparadise/pseuds/werepope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is Karen's favorite.  Liam's too.</p>
<p>AU: Who am I to blow against the wind?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Advent calendar challenge: Crowds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate goes ever as fate must.

An industry party in London where Zayn can't turn around without stepping on the hem of an actress or singer's dress. The whole thing is a big damn deal. There are photographers outside snapping pictures of all the rich, famous people in borrowed clothes as they walk in. It would feel like more of a big deal, maybe, if Zayn weren't one of the people being washed out by flash after flash, if he weren't used to walking that gambit on a regular basis.

It's amazing what you can become accustomed to, given time and incentive.

He all but walks into Niall, who ropes him in for a selfie and asks for his twitter handle. Zayn isn't sure, honestly. His PR firm handles the account, pays some hipster in LA to do it for him. Niall says "found ya" before he can admit to it, though, so now he's probably friends with Niall on Twitter. For whatever that's worth.

He wrapped filming a week ago on a sci-fi flick that involved a lot of getting in shape and then a lot of time in front of a green screen. Zayn can appreciate the method thing, the body changes that some actors can put themselves through for a role, but this was hardly _The Machinist_. Hell, it wasn't even _Bronson_. He wishes they'd just given him abs digitally. Might as well, since they'll already be going over every frame giving him blue eyes.

Niall can sympathize. He did a big budget thing a couple years ago where he had to wear a prosthetic axe sticking out of his chest for a good chunk of filming.

"Zombie comedies. Who the fuck knew." Niall shrugs. "I've got the axe in the kitchen."

"That's nothing," Louis announces, ducking suddenly into the conversation and draping himself across their shoulders. "I've got my own arm in the freezer. Real conversation starter, that."

"See?" Niall says, waving a hand between them illustratively. "Everyone should do a horror film. You don't get those kinds of props doing art house."

Louis snorts. "All you get from art films is wardrobe you'd never be caught dead in again. Not that you didn't look lovely in that dress, Zaynie."

"It was a shroud," Zayn says. He doesn't bother putting much emphasis on it. Louis has made this point before. He will not be swayed. It was a shroud, though.

"And that's what you get for doing a Julie Taymor film."

"Oh was that the _Grendel_ flick? I didn't see that," Niall says. "Sorry, Zayn."

Louis waves a hand. "No one saw it."

Zayn rather liked _Grendel_. It wasn't the most lucrative project he's ever done and the filming sucked – filming in Scotland always sucks – but he thought the finished film was good. Not zombie comedy good, maybe, but they can't all be critics' choice.

"Thanks for that, Lou. I appreciate it."

He claps Louis on the back before moving away to seek more polite conversations, if not friendlier ones. At the very least he wants to visit the bar. The evening will be a lot easier with a drink in hand.

He gets waylaid a few times on the way. A director he hasn't seen in years. An actress he went to a premier with once. A clothing designer who he honestly doesn't recognize until he tells Zayn how glad he is to have him signing on to be the face of their spring menswear campaign.

He's just a couple meters from getting his hands on a whiskey sour when a hand catches on his elbow, and it's only long practice that keeps him from swearing and pulling away. He does not have the good grace to smile as he turns around, though. That's a bridge too fucking far.

He really wishes he'd been smiling, but he doesn't need to worry about it. He's grinning almost immediately, a surprise of a laugh escaping him. "Karen!"

She goes up onto her toes to hug him, kiss his cheek. "How are you, love? I was hoping you'd be here." She's swapped her glasses out for contacts and her hair's darker than the last time Zayn saw her. She looks lovely.

"I could say the same. What Hollywood hunk nabbed you for the night?"

Karen giggles and cups his cheeks. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. I saw Nick Rhodes earlier but Liam won't introduce me."

"Nick? Really? I figured you for a Simon fan."

"Don't do it. That's not a road you want to walk down," Liam says, passing a glass of wine off to Karen and then curling his fingers briefly against Zayn's bicep. "Hi."

"Hi." Zayn steals the glass from his other hand. It's the least Liam owes him, really, for not telling him he'd be here two weeks ago when he asked. For not mentioning any change of plans in the many texts and phone calls since then.

Liam swings himself in for a hug, tight and just quick enough to inhale against the hinge of Zayn's jaw. "Surprise," he says, pulling back.

Zayn sort of wants to deck him. He also wants another, much longer hug, a whole bottle of wine, and an invitation to Liam's flat.

"I thought you were in Portugal," he says.

Liam smiles. "Madrid. I was this morning. I decided to fly up and attend after all."

"Niall does throw a good party."

"I guess." Liam motions toward Karen, who is smiling at the two of them rather blatantly behind the rim of her wineglass. "Mum heard you were going to be here. You know how she gets."

Karen tucks into Zayn's side to give him a half hug. "He's my favorite," she says.

Liam rolls his eyes. "Quite a compliment, really, seeing as how _the_ Nick Rhodes is here."

"Point him out, mum," Zayn says, steering her around. "We'll go introduce ourselves."

As Karen leads them away, Liam presses his hand to the small of Zayn's back. "She missed you."

"Just her?"

Karen laughs. "Don't let him play coy, love. I've seen his DVD collection. He's even got the one with you in the dress."

"It was a _shroud_ ," Liam says.


End file.
